As a woman-wife-mother-professional-friend in this world, there are many a moment where I feel like I need assistance. Whether that come in the form of a personal assistant, fairy godmother, chef, chauffeur, I’m pretty flexible. I will turn my nose up at no help that is offered in keeping this good ship of my life afloat. And that desire for someone to help is a-okay in my book. It’s healthy to look around and be struck with, “Crap, there is a lot here to be done!”

However, while I wait for said help to magically appear, stuff still needs doing. Dishes, laundry, the general pick up. Sweet goodness, why do they all insist on swirling everything in the house into one homogenous heap? Our home’s particular affliction is fill-the-open-space-itis. Has your condiment vacated a space on the fridge shelf? Don’t look now, but I’ve put something else there to fill that gap! Cleared off that table? Oh, no, nellie, here comes my homework and backpack! Empty chair, meet husband’s briefcase. Even the cats are in on it, dragging stuffed animals to be abandoned in the dead center of the hallway. I may or may have not been reduced to threatening full-on asceticism in our house, but whatever.

Because bitterness is particularly unpleasant to live with, and if no one cleans house, we’ll drown in the entropy, one must adjust. For me, this involves a herculean mind game that has become a deeply effective way out. I give myself presents. (NO, not more stuff!) When I’m cleaning the kitchen, again, my previous inner monologue would have been something like this:

“Again. Cleaning this kitchen again. With the food, and the eating, there is no escape.”

Instead, I forcibly tell myself this:

“Future Me, this is for you. Clean counters make us happy, and clutter makes our heart palpitate, so we’re getting this done. I got you, girl. This is Past Me, having your back and making life better.”

And though it might be a sign of full-on delusion or the quirks of an overtaxed brain, when I’ve gone off to something else and returned to the room I’ve just cleaned, I’m thrilled. Mind you, I’m 100% aware that this is work of my own doing. We’ve not gone that far off the rails. Yet. But the feeling of entering a space that is clean and at rest is a deep satisfaction to my soul.

“Hey Past Me. Thank you. You’re saving our bacon lately.”

It’s free, it gets my house clean, and allows me to be nice to me on a fairly regular basis. Not a bad gift, if you ask me.

~Me

]]>https://caryncorbin.com/2017/12/07/gifts-i-give-myself/feed/0littlerynnThis was the pancetta…https://caryncorbin.com/2017/10/10/this-was-the-pancetta/
https://caryncorbin.com/2017/10/10/this-was-the-pancetta/#respondWed, 11 Oct 2017 02:16:33 +0000http://caryncorbin.com/?p=572Continue reading This was the pancetta…]]>This was the pancetta.

The pancetta represents my life a bit right now.

It started off all well… I was cooking a great recipe for Sausage Kale Sweet Potato soup, and I thought, “Wouldn’t it be fun to take pictures along the process?” Here’s the pancetta, here goes the sausage, and on through the process. It was going to be awesome.

Then life.

I got busy, I got hungry, I needed to move forward, so I just. finished. cooking.

And now I have a lonely photo of uncooked pancetta in a pot. Poor pancetta.

But here’s the deal: I probably wasn’t going to change your life with my culinary play-by-play.

I’m writing this from the lobby of my son’s Boy Scout meeting. There’s a committee meeting I ‘should’ be attending. Instead, I am here, with laptop, intending to crank out some serious work content. Because it’s that or continue to drown in tasks.

Choices. Time invested in one area is time away from another. And I’m choosing today to do a solid for future me in the office. You’re welcome, Future Me. And sorry, Past Me, about the pancetta.

Despite all that, the soup was lovely.

~Me

]]>https://caryncorbin.com/2017/10/10/this-was-the-pancetta/feed/0IMG_7179littlerynnBathing Supta Baddha Konasanahttps://caryncorbin.com/2017/09/04/bathing-supta-baddha-konasana/
https://caryncorbin.com/2017/09/04/bathing-supta-baddha-konasana/#respondTue, 05 Sep 2017 01:49:36 +0000http://caryncorbin.com/?p=549Continue reading Bathing Supta Baddha Konasana]]>This weekend found me holding space for several issues in several roles (no, we’re not talking about those today), and it came at a cost. I’m tired. I’m at the end of myself. So I pulled out my list and opted to take care of me.

First, alone time. There was too much out and not enough in for this introvert.

Second: bath. Water is soothing balm, especially when combined with @lushcosmetics bath bombs. To my delight, I discovered that the rose bath bomb has actual rose petals. Be still my heart.

I lit a candle.

I sat in the pink waters in what I’m calling “Bathing Supra Buddha Konasana”, which my yoga friends will translate to “Bathing Reclining Goddess”. And I breathed deep. Somewhere in this world, there must be an in-water yoga class, because I’ve never felt quite so connected to my breath.

I played soft music.

And I had the slave food of the ancient pharaohs. Which the Egyptology types will tell you is beer.

Oh, and I shaved my legs, because #SelfCare.

Now I pour a small portion of myself onto the page.

In the days to come I’ll sort through all the items for which I held space, sift the chaff and wheat, and make some decisions, but tonight was a space held for me.

Lovelies, there is chaos everywhere. Life is a bright, hot mess. Consider this your carte blanche permission to fill your cup. #Namaste

~Me

]]>https://caryncorbin.com/2017/09/04/bathing-supta-baddha-konasana/feed/0littlerynnSaturday morninghttps://caryncorbin.com/2017/08/26/saturday-morning/
https://caryncorbin.com/2017/08/26/saturday-morning/#respondSat, 26 Aug 2017 19:33:58 +0000http://caryncorbin.com/?p=536Continue reading Saturday morning]]>Monday through Friday, I hustle. I #Werk. I roll myself out of bed before the rest of my people, dress like the #BossLady that I am, and walk my high-heeled self out the door to hit the office. And once I’m there, it’s nonstop. Email. Phone calls. Meetings. Instant Messages. Text Messages. Conference calls. GoToMeetings. Marketing design. More meetings. Strategy. I am the essence of getting it done.

Right now, the work space is super-full, so to the chagrin of my husband, I am working through more lunches and staying late more often than I prefer, and far more than is my habit.

Like I said: hustle.

But today is Saturday, and Saturday is my gift to me. As much as is possible, I give myself the all-access pass to whatever I want on Saturday.

Television till noon? Cool.

No shower? Sure.

Don’t want to leave the house yet? ‘Kay.

It’s the 180-degree shift from the rest of my week, and sister, it’s vital. When you’ve run for five days with your foot pressed full-tilt on the accelerator, there’s a time when you need to just stop. Stop. Breathe. Listen.

A friend of mine is the Pied Piper of self-care and self-love and self-awareness, and it’s brilliant. As women, we’re awful at listening to our inner voice, and we and everyone around us eventually pay the price.

So, dear friends, this is what I recommend for you today: take a deep breath, get quiet, then ask yourself, “What do we want to do today?”

And then? Go get it done.

~Me

]]>https://caryncorbin.com/2017/08/26/saturday-morning/feed/0IMG_5649littlerynnOff the tophttps://caryncorbin.com/2017/02/23/off-the-top/
https://caryncorbin.com/2017/02/23/off-the-top/#respondFri, 24 Feb 2017 02:36:56 +0000http://caryncorbin.com/?p=507Continue reading Off the top]]>I don’t know about you, but today for me was a full day. You know the ones, where you get pivots and unexpected shifts which can be challenging to navigate. I came home to find that all my peoples had similar days. There were tears, disappointments, boundary-drawing (no, you cannot play Xbox when you are turning in late homework. Ever.) and a general feeling of stretched thin.

We’re all taking breathers, so I’m feeling contemplative. In no particular order, here are the things I’m telling myself right now. Call them mantras, truths, self-placations, what you will.

I do not know everything. Lawd, no. While I may have held that opinion in my early twenties (Thank you to all my sisters who let me live through THAT particular phase) I am very very clear on the fact that I do not hold the answers to all things. Benefits of life experience and all that.

You don’t know everything either. Despite what you may think. Bless your heart.

I trust the process. Everything has a process, and I’ve seen my gut instinct proven right on more than one occasion via process. So it’s okay, because if it needs to come out, the process will out.

Authentic no means authentic yes.

Everyone is trying to do the best that they can, sometimes with broken tools.

Find the humor. For the love of Pete, find the FRICKIN’ HUMOR. It’s always there somewhere. As a friend of mine likes to say, “If it’ll be funny someday, then it’s funny today.”

Remember to take care of yourself like a houseplant: water, air, sunlight, nourishment.

I am uniquely and divinely made for an awe-inspiring purpose.

So are you.

We belong to each other.

We can do hard things. (Thanks, G)

So there you have it. Now I’m gonna go hold my people. Hug the neck of someone you love.

~Me

]]>https://caryncorbin.com/2017/02/23/off-the-top/feed/0littlerynnThe Turning-In Timehttps://caryncorbin.com/2017/01/17/the-turning-in-time/
https://caryncorbin.com/2017/01/17/the-turning-in-time/#respondWed, 18 Jan 2017 04:08:23 +0000http://caryncorbin.com/?p=499Continue reading The Turning-In Time]]>I spent nearly ten years as a stay-at-home mother, and one practice continues to nourish my soul. When the boys were small, and the summer sunshine long, I created “Nighttime Lights.” All the curtains in the house would close, all the lights would get turned down, and I would create an artificial twilight to send my little ones off to their early dreamland. It served us well, and provided one of the many structural point to the long days spent tending little ones.

Now that they are older, and ruled more by the clock and less by the sun, we still have a form of “Nighttime Lights” that rules our evenings. In the winter months it comes earlier, prompted by the sun’s early retreat from the sky and the hastening dark and chill. I find solace and peace in closing each curtain, spreading the thick thermal against the cold. As the eyes of my windows close, I bid rest to the things outside, the demands of all that lie beyond my borders. The house seems to warm as the light and heat are reflected inward, rather than out. My borders are closed, circling in on those who are mine.

Once the ritual is done, the house settles into a warm stillness, winding from the flurry of the day to the measured pace towards sleep. Shoulders settle, breathing slows, and we rest.

May you find your rest amongst your people in this turning-in time.

~Me

]]>https://caryncorbin.com/2017/01/17/the-turning-in-time/feed/0littlerynn“This is the Ugly Book”https://caryncorbin.com/2017/01/12/this-is-the-ugly-book/
https://caryncorbin.com/2017/01/12/this-is-the-ugly-book/#respondFri, 13 Jan 2017 05:04:13 +0000http://caryncorbin.com/?p=483Continue reading “This is the Ugly Book”]]>I have a small spiral notebook that I carry in my purse. One of my goals this year is to write more, and as a working, busy, full-schedule mom and wife, there are moments when I have a great spark of an idea, an epiphany. They’re amazing.

And short.

And often, they fly away as fast as they came.

My notebook is an effort to catch those wayward thoughts and pin them down, like butterflies in a diorama, and hold them long enough to make it to the keyboard. Yes, technology is grand and I’ll admit that my smartphone is near more often than not, but it’s the new “I walked into this room and forgot why I came, so, oooooh, Facebook.” It doesn’t work for this jam.

And paper?

Mmmmmmmmmmmm, paper. And pen.

I think there’s a reason for the ever-burgeoning industry of pretty journals and nice pens. We’re fundamentally drawn to the written word and tools of the trade. The smell. The feel, the practice.

However, I’m the first to admit to failing my ever-perceived high standards for a pretty journal. Are you kidding me? The penmanship must be perfect, the sentences prosaic, the content deep and meaningful, at all times. The number of journals that I’ve started with good intentions and abandoned within the first dozen pages is truly terrifying.

So now, I try to do it differently. I have this little spiral-bound stunner, with a teal cover and good thick paper with college-ruled lines in taupe. Truly lovely. And what did I write on the cover page that begged for my name and date and inspirational quote?

“This is the Ugly Book.”

Ugly. Free. Unfettered by the requirements of correctness or beauty or completeness. Holding every type of thought, from the Shakespearian sonnet to the angrily scribbled frustration at the world. Blog topics. Articles I find interesting. Book ideas. Angry questions that I chuck at the Almighty. EVERYTHING.

I’ve decided that the need to be pretty and correct and deep doesn’t suit me. There is no perfect presentation, and the longer I wait for everything to arrive in perfect penmanship, the more the sparklers of my soul will flit away untold.

So, there you have it. My hope is that it’ll spark more here, but even if it doesn’t, I’m happy to have started the journey.

In all the ugliness,

~Me

]]>https://caryncorbin.com/2017/01/12/this-is-the-ugly-book/feed/0littlerynnThe Listhttps://caryncorbin.com/2016/12/01/the-list-2/
https://caryncorbin.com/2016/12/01/the-list-2/#respondFri, 02 Dec 2016 05:26:59 +0000http://caryncorbin.com/?p=456Continue reading The List]]>I don’t know about you, but I’m in a season of life right now that is WORK. Work at work, work at schoolwork, work at schedule, WORK. And some days take all the guts I’ve got in me.

Today was super-full, and capped off with hosting the office Christmas party, and for this high-functioning introvert, that’s a lot of guts to give. I came home tired, tired, tired. I wanted to curl into a ball on the couch with an adult beverage and throw in the towel. It was a triumph not to have ugly cried from fatigue on the way home.

<Moment of silence. We’ve all been there.>

But.

Today I chose differently. I puppy-piled with my sons until bedtime, I worked out, took an epsom salts bath with essential oils, and now I’m writing. And all these things feed and nourish me, body, soul, and spirit.

So I’ve decided I’m going to make a list. Maybe two. One will go like this: “Cray cray? At the edge? All done? Have you tried:

water

food

nap

exercise

hot bath

good book

writing

snuggles

good cry

meditation

prayer

hugs”

The other will be a priority list. “My self needs these things to thrive:”

Might I potentially end up curled up on the couch with an adult beverage this evening? Maybe. Strike that, probably. BUT I will be there knowing I have taken a holistic approach to self-care.

Join me?

~Me

]]>https://caryncorbin.com/2016/12/01/the-list-2/feed/0littlerynnHere’s the dealhttps://caryncorbin.com/2016/11/13/heres-the-deal/
https://caryncorbin.com/2016/11/13/heres-the-deal/#respondMon, 14 Nov 2016 00:30:33 +0000http://caryncorbin.com/?p=427Continue reading Here’s the deal]]>This goes out to anyone who’s ever read my stuff on Facebook, who’s enjoyed my wry humor, who likes to interact on this wide jungle gym we call social media. I write this, tongue firmly in cheek, because I have a burning desire to lay groundwork in a completely irrelevant medium, to people who may or may not give a gnat’s worth of care to what I’m about to say.

I. Cannot. Take. This.

I cannot stomach the meanness, the intolerance, the anger, the vitriol. On November 9th, in one manner or another, the world turned upside down. In the moments leading up to and since that turn, people are absolutely beating on one another with words.

I can’t stay in the pool, my friends, the water has become toxic.

So my plan for the moment is this:

Facebook newsfeed is Right. Out. I apologize in advance for missing the baby photos and new cars and houses and promotions and moves. I’m sure they will be lovely.

Merry unbirthday to everyone! Because I will in all likelihood miss the Facebook love-fest on your special day.

I will continue to speak (because silence is not the answer) from my other platforms: caryncorbin.com (blog), @caryncorbin (Twitter), caryncorbin (Instagram), many of which feed to my Facebook timeline.

Facebook Groups and Messenger will stay intact, so I’m available there.

I make no promises regarding responding to items on my timeline, but maybe.

I’m on the cusp of completing my graduate program, which will free up a significant number of words. We’ll see where they lead. Between now and then, I’m turning towards the hearts and faces that are within arm’s reach, and I’m being very intentional about the inputs and influences I’m allowing this season. My island is smaller.

Until the flip-side, the resolution of the upside down.

In the meantime, be kind.

Parting thoughts:

“When I was a young man, I wanted to change the world. I found it was difficult to change the world, so I tried to change my nation. When I found I couldn’t change the nation, I began to focus on town. I couldn’t change the town and as an older man, I tried to change my family.

Now, as an old man, I realize the only thing I can change is myself, and suddenly I realize that if long ago I had changed myself, I could have made an impact on my family. My family and I could have made an impact on our town. Their impact could have changed the nation and I could have indeed changed the world.”

~Unknown Monk, 1100 A.D.

~Me

]]>https://caryncorbin.com/2016/11/13/heres-the-deal/feed/0littlerynnWhere have all the words gone?https://caryncorbin.com/2016/10/18/where-have-all-the-words-gone/
https://caryncorbin.com/2016/10/18/where-have-all-the-words-gone/#respondWed, 19 Oct 2016 04:05:02 +0000http://caryncorbin.com/?p=410Continue reading Where have all the words gone?]]>I’ve been busy, writing words and words and words and words. Graduate school is comprised of reading and writing and writing and writing. Therefore, the flow of words has been diverted elsewhere.

Never fear, I still think of y’all.

There’s been a loss in my family this week, which might be the reason I’m here instead of with my final paper. But I’m thinking, and as the tagline says, 160 characters just won’t do.

I was late to the game with the musical Hamilton: An American Musical, but it’s been heavy on my brain. Lin-Manual Miranda has written such a rich body of work, rife with great lyric, rhythm, and content.

“Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes and we keep living anyway, we rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes and if there’s a reason I’m still alive everyone who loves me has died, I’m willing to wait for it. Wait for it. I am the one thing in life can control. I am inimitable, I am an original. I’m not falling behind or running late. I’m not standing still, I am lying in wait.”

~Lin-Manuel Miranda, Wait for It

I’ll be back, never fear. When this demand of words is relieved, I can’t wait to talk.